Project Nemesis
by Gardie
Summary: In the aftermath of a worldwide war a boy searches for his parents.
1. Chapter 1

**Operation Nemesis**

By: Jason Bosch

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil, Sony, Capcom or any of those other wonderful billion dollar companies and franchises which I have drawn ideas from.

AN: Here we go. A Resident Evil fanfic. This should be a three-part story that will serve as a prologue to another one. That is only if you people like this one.

**Chapter 1**

It's raining again; tears from heaven. Why would heaven shed tears? I was told it's because of the sadness in the world. Like I believe that. Up in heaven there's no sadness. In heaven there's no pain and no suffering. Those in heaven look down on the world and have the gall to cry. They can turn away, like watching a cheap movie on TV. I have to live here. I have to experience the pain everyday. There's no turning away for me; the pain is my life. I can create my own rain with my own tears. I know I've shed more than enough in my time.

"Rage! It's time to eat! Come in!"

Hope's calling me now. Do they really think that supper will entice me to that stuffy orphanage? I'd rather be hungry and stay out here. I'll go back when the sun's set. I can still see it peeking through the gaps between the black clouds. I wonder if the sun can see me. What would it think as it traverses the skies every day? Maybe it knows where my parents are. Then again, maybe they're dead. That's what happened to everyone else; they all died. Why? Because one man wanted to control the world. Just one man. But hundreds died and the whole world was changed forever. It'll never be the same as it was and it will take years for the scars to fade.

"If you don't get inside and out of the rain right now, Rage, Nana says she's going to come out and drag you in by your ears!"

That's right. Don't let me savour my time alone. Oh well, It's not like my life can get any worse.

"I'm coming," I sigh, hoping she can hear me over the rain.

I drop from the tree branch I'd been nestled in and land easily. The cold mud squelches up between my toes in a strangely soothing manner. That'll get me in trouble when I go inside. Nana insists that everything remains neat and tidy. I can't imagine why. The orphanage is a ruin. It used to be a museum, I think, but it was one of the innumerable buildings that were destroyed during the war and we live in the remains now.

"You're getting mud all over the floor," scolds Nana, hands on hips and her hair tied up in a bun.

"Sorry," I mutter, otherwise ignoring her and making my way to the table.

Nana was a nice lady really. She looked after us all by herself. There are thirty of us, all orphans between the ages of about five and going up to seventeen. I'm a sixteen-year-old boy with aloof green eyes and loose brown hair that I can't do anything with. I've been here for about half a year. That's how long it's been since the Great War. I don't see what people found so great about it though. My dad left for the war and I don't know why. He wasn't a soldier. He worked in a laboratory. He was one of the smartest men there. It was then just mom and me until she got a massage from dad that he needed her help. She apologised to me but said she had to go and help my dad. She couldn't fight either, she was a vet. She was one of the most helpful people you would ever have met; I think that's why she left. I stayed with my aunt for over a year as the war drew on and on. When the soldiers came my aunt was killed; so many people are dead now. After that I was alone for a long time before I found Nana. Now I live here though I still hope my parents survived somehow. One day I will find them again. That's a promise I've made to myself.

"Rage, the radio's broken again. Can you please fix it?" asks Nana.

"I'll try," I reply.

I don't mind, it'll keep me distracted for a while. I don't know what to do anymore. I'd hoped to become a computer programmer before the war and I'd also been pretty interested in all electrical and mechanical contraptions. But almost everything's been destroyed, all over the world. I don't think anyone knows what's going on now so I don't know what to do with my life. In any case I get asked to fix everything around the orphanage; it's my 'job'. All of us have a special task to do. Nana looks after everyone. I fix stuff. Hope nags; actually she's learning to cook. She's young but that's the majority of the people here, young and with no real future. I pick up the radio and a screwdriver and open it up. I know what the problem is before I've even taken the thing apart. There's a loose wire. If I had solder I could fix it permanently but there's nothing like that for miles. All I can do is hook it to where it's supposed to be and hope it doesn't detach itself too soon.

"Here. It's all done…for the moment," I say and I hand it to Nana.

"Thank you," she says.

She turns the radio on and we listen to what it has to say.

"…CRZZZ…and I think that's all the news we have for today."

Darn. We missed it. One radio mast in our area is still up and a group of people broadcast at a set time every day.

"Wait I think Brink has something to report. He looks very distressed. Brink, what seems to be the problem?" asks the voice on the radio.

"The war's started again!" came Brink's breathless answer.

All of us were silent. The war had started again? What was there left to fight with…or over. There was only a fraction of the world's population left. That was thanks to modern technology. One bomb for one city. In one flash of fire everyone dies, no chance to survive.

"I've just been informed that in the larger cities groups that supported Phoenix have begun to fight again."

Phoenix was a militaristic faction that believed the world needed to be changed radically in order for us to survive. Their solution to the world's problems was genocide. They reasoned that if you killed all the poor, sick and stupid people, leaving only the best selection of people, the world would be a better place. It makes some sense and spread throughout the world. Some governments began to follow that way of thinking as well. That infuriated the non-Phoenix countries and began the war. Strangely enough even large amounts of poor and unintelligent people supported Phoenix; it just goes to show people always see themselves as superior. While those that didn't support Phoenix saw the war as a horrible but necessary evil the Phoenix supporters saw the war as the beginning and it certainly was. Millions died in the war, accelerating Phoenixes plan. If Phoenix had been left alone it might not have spread but people seem to have a need to interfere. If something isn't the way they want it, even if it's in another country they rush in, guns blazing, and then blame the other side for the ensuing war and death.

"The conflicts have been spreading," continued the radio presenter, Brink, "and the military is mobilising. They'll be travelling around to recruit more soldiers and due to the lack of suitable candidates the age for conscription has been lowered to thirteen."

"Stupidity," muttered Nana, "Turning the radio off angrily, "Didn't they learn? More fighting is only going to lead to more death."

Everyone is talking about the war. It's already isolated the survivors into small, scattered pockets and now it threatens everyone once again. Nana is against the war, she's a pacifist. She believes all problems can be solved by discussion and agreeing on a solution that appeals to both sides. I don't like war; it seems to me to be a bunch of people killing each other and accomplishing nothing. After the last war nothing changed; a lot of people lost their lives but the views of Phoenix live on. Even though I don't like the thought of war there's a strange idea forming inside me. A stupid idea that will probably get me killed and accomplish nothing, but still it's there.

The soldiers have arrived today and everyone's come from all around to see who'll go and fight. Everywhere I look people's eyes are red from crying, those are the ones whose loved ones have decided to fight, or blank, the ones whose families are completely gone, like mine. They're also hoping the soldiers will have news. With the communication lines down the only way to get news is the old-fashioned and slow way, physically transporting mail or word of mouth. The soldiers are saying that they can't release any information to civilians. They're probably afraid there are some secret Phoenix sympathisers in our community. I can understand how they feel. Everyone's afraid and paranoid.

"Is that so?" asks a demanding voice.

It's Nana! She's confronting the soldiers now. I hope she knows what he's doing.

"You come here, after our homes and families have been torn apart by your war, asking any young men to join you in your fight but you refuse to tell us what's going on?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but all our information is classified and unavailable to non-military personnel," Answers the soldier-in-charge.

"Really? So you don't think we should know what's going on? You know you make me sick. All you do is kill and breed hatred because someone disagrees with you. Did you ever talk about your differences? I doubt it. Right away you turn to force and where has it brought you? Nowhere!"

"Will you please move aside, ma'am, we have a job to do here."

"Take our men away to be killed? Why take them away to die? If you killed them here we would at least be able to bury them!"

Nana turned her back on the soldiers and walked away. Everyone is incredibly uncomfortable after that confrontation.

"Rage, come. Let's go," she calls.

I take a breath. It's time I told her what my plans are. I know she won't like it but it's what I have to do.

"I'm…I'm going to join the military," I say.

Nana stops, stunned, and just gives me a disbelieving look. I can see in her eyes that she is sad. I know this has hurt her but this is the only way I can find my parents…if they're alive anyway.

"It's your choice," she says finally, "You know I don't agree with it but I won't stop you."

She walks over to me now and gives me a tight hug. Her voice is quivering slightly when she speaks again, "Good luck. Don't get yourself killed."

After that she walks away. I think she was crying. I never knew she felt like that about me. I swallowed hard, fighting back my tears. I didn't know felt like that about her either. By the time I manage to compose myself se's gone. It's too late to say goodbye, too late to say how grateful I am for what she's done for me. I'm alone again and the only way I can go is forward.

"I want to sign up," I tell the registration officer.

"Do you have ID?" he asks.

I shake my head, "I'm sixteen."

"Do you have any identification?"

I shake my head again. There's no way for them to know who I really am if I lie but I'm sure that this happens a lot now. When you're fleeing for your life you don't bother to collect a few identification papers.

"What's your name, son?"

"Rage," I answer, "Rage Winter."

He writes it down on the page.

"And you said you are sixteen?"

"Yes."

He sighs but continues his little interview. He asks about my medical history, fitness level, allergies and all that sort of stuff. When I don't know he doesn't seem surprised. I doubt that many people know what blood-group they are in.

"Here," he says, handing home a carbon-copy of the sheet he's just filled in, "Take that to the trailer and they'll give you a uniform, ID and weapon.

"Thank you," I say politely, take the paper and continue on my way to become a killer.

At the trailer there is an old computer where another officer types everything up. He then uses an old, mechanical press to make me a pair of dog tags. They are attached to a silvery chain and I hang it around my neck. It's icy cold but it'll soon grow warm from touching my body. He then measures me and gets me a uniform that will fit. It's made out of a tough material that isn't very comfortable but I don't think it'll take too much to keep it in good condition. It's shades of blue and grey. Next he hands me and automatic rifle. It's heavier than I expected. He gives me a quick overview on how it works and hands me a couple of clips, already loaded with bullets. I take them and go sit and wait for us to leave. I'm now a soldier. I'm in a profession I don't like so I can find my parents who might not even be alive.

I'm now sitting in the back of a truck. There are a few other new soldiers with me. We can't see anything outside because we're surrounded by sheeting. The back end is open but all you can see is the dust in the road that has been kicked up by the truck's tires. The seat is hard and my bum's going numb from the rough ride. I hope it won't take too long to get to base. Apparently there's already a mission for us when we get there. Due to the shortage of troops they are unable to give us any training; we're just going to be kicked out into battle.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

What the hell!? I drop to the floor along with the other recruits. Large holes have been torn in the tarpaulin that was shielding us. I glance around. One of the recruits is lying face down on the floor. There are splinters of bone on the floor around him and blood is running over the floor from the gaping hole in is head. I try to shake it off and load my rifle. Another recruit throws up noisily, unable to handle the gristly scene.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

BANG! BANG!

More gunshots. The truck has stopped now. The other recruits have loaded their guns. Phoenix must have attacked us before we reached safety. One of the braver recruits takes the initiative and jumps out of the truck, raising his gun. The rest of us follow.

Outside we realise we've entered the remains of what was once a large city. There's a phoenix soldier pulling the corpse of our driver from the truck. I raise my gun reflexively and squeeze off a few shots. The gun shakes wildly as it spews deadly projectiles in the direction I've pointed it. The bullets fly all over but the first miraculously hits its target. The other man falls back and a squirt of blood squirting out of his chest. I can barely believe I just killed him but I don't have time to think about it before more enemies arrive. I dive for cover as the ear-splitting sound of automatic fire rends the air. Dirt from the street is kicked up as bullets miss their targets and trace lines of death through the air. I see another enemy and pull the trigger while pointing the gun in his direction. The wall he was crouching against explodes in a shower of dust and grit. He falls back in surprise and swings his gun to aim at me. One of my team-mates fires and I watch the enemy's chest torn open by a close grouping of bullets.

The battle rages on. Miraculously I survive my first skirmish without taking a hit. I can't say the same for everyone, unfortunately. The enemy fled when too many of their side had been killed and more than half of us recruits die. Our commanding officers didn't make it either. It's sad but we can't waste time to bury the dead. We cover some with the tattered remains of the canvas from the truck, the rest we leave out in the open. Someone knows how to drive and he climbs into the driver's seat despite the fact that it's covered in blood. The rest of us climb back into the truck and hope that we'll be able to find the base by ourselves.

The rest of the journey went off without incident and we manage to get where we are supposed to be. After the fire-fight I'm starting to wonder whether made the right decision to come on this foolhardy expedition. I left the safe orphanage on a hunch and already I was almost killed. I hate to admit it but things don't seem to bode well for the future.


	2. Chapter 2

**Operation Nemesis**

By: Gardie

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil, Sony, Capcom or any of those other wonderful billion dollar companies and franchises which I have drawn ideas from.

AN: Did I forget to space everything properly last chapter? Where're the reviews! Don't want me to keep writing RE stories?

omegadestroyer7: The lack of resemblance could be because I wasn't originally thinking of doing an RE fic. But you'll see it is RE now.

**Chapter 2**

We've reported to the higher-ups and are now awaiting our next mission. I was hoping for a break but I'm no longer in command of my own life. I must now follow my commander's orders.

"Hey man. You're Rage, right?"

I turn to see the source of the voice. It's the newly-recruited soldier sitting next to me. We were both in the skirmish earlier. He offers me his hand and I shake it.

"Yes," answer, "That's me. Who're you?"

"John. None of us were introduced yet so I decided I might as well introduce myself."

"Well we've been rather rushed. No time for introductions."

John shook his head in disagreement.

"It's polite to greet the people you're working with and there's always time for manners."

I can't help but grin at the way he spoke of manners. I haven't heard many people like that.

"You're right. I'm sorry," I say.

"No need to apologise. Just don't forget your manners. Imagine how the world would be without any civility. If everyone was unfriendly."

"That sounds to me a lot how the world used to be," I reply, thinking how people treated each other.

People seldom greeted anyone, at shops, at parties or anywhere else. I remember watching people pushing in front of others in queues, hooting if a car hesitated for a moment and people walking right past those in need.

"I know," he replied sadly, "And look what happened. The world is in tatters and we're forced to kill to survive. The reason I joined was in the hope that I could help end the war before everyone was killed."

That's just the same reason why the war started isn't it? There were two opposing views so they began to destroy each other. Now John wants to eliminate the other view so the war will end. Isn't it possible for us to co-exist?

"So why did you join?" asks John, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"I want to find my parents … if they are still alive anyway."

"I'm sorry," he says, "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"You couldn't know," I mutter, "It's not your fault."

That depressing turn killed any possibility of further conversation and we resumed an uncomfortable silence.

"Alright everyone, follow me!" shouts a commanding looking man.

Everyone rises and follows him into a darkened room. We take our seats, facing a white wall for a projector to shine on.

"There're rather few of you," comments the captain after surveying the survivors, "But we'll have to make do."

He pushes the button on a remote which starts a projector. The image that appears on the screen shows our country before and after the war. After the war there are large areas marked out in red. The key states that those areas have been completely annihilated by the combat.

"As you can see," begins the captain, "we are in a bad state. Over 90 of all urban structures have been destroyed, an estimated 80 of the population are dead and we've already been plunged into a second war without sufficient time to recover.

This has left us a number of problems. They are all speculations as we don't have the man power, equipment or infrastructure to confirm or deny them. Almost certainly there are unexploded missiles, grenades etc. that pose a significant risk to civilians. It is unknown how many bodies are still lying in the open increasing the risk of disease substantially. And lastly we are unsure if any chemical, biological or nuclear weapons were used; if any were they will have long lasting effects.

While that seems like a list of insurmountable list of difficulties we have a plan of action which should ensure safety for our citizens, accelerate economic growth and provide the greatest ability to defend ourselves against the resurgence of Phoenix militants."

He clicks the remote and the a few yellow circles appeared over the map.

"Those yellow-locations are the areas that have taken the least damage. We have decided to evacuate as much of the population to these areas as possible. That way we will be able to concentrate and utilise everyone's skills instead of having refugees spread over the country and unable to take action alone. You will be doing this job; collecting, protecting and transporting civilians from where they are now to this designated area."

Before the captain could continue his briefing the door opens and three people enter. The first was in a military uniform and is wearing numerous military insignia.

"Colonel!" stutters the captain, saluting, "I didn't expect you."

"No you did not," agrees the colonel, "The mission is cancelled. Your new mission is to escort these two people back to their laboratory."

The other two people are wearing white lab clothes and are … my … parents.

"Mom! Dad! You're alive!"

We're outside the briefing room now and in a private room.

"When you left to join the army and didn't return I thought you'd been killed!"

"Oh, we didn't join the army, honey," says my mom, ruffling my hair.

"You didn't?" I ask.

"I left to help the army," replies my dad, "I'm not a soldier!"

"Umbrella offered to help the military," explains my mom.

Umbrella? I know that name. Yes! That's the company my dad worked for.

"I was working on a project that could have signalled a clear victory for us," my dad says, "But I needed your moms help to finish."

"We still didn't succeed though," my mom says sadly, "Although we are pretty sure we can finish now. Then we'll be able to end this war."

"We sent for you after the war but the messenger said the whole city was n ruins and he couldn't find you," confesses my dad, "We hoped you'd survived but there was no way to find you."

"We don't want to lose you, dear," my mom sobs, "We'll have you assigned as our bodyguard. That way you can stay with us and we'll be a family again."

I am so happy to be reunited with my parents. We didn't get attacked once on our way to their lab, where I am now. All the time we talked and I learned that Umbrella made a deal with the government to lend their assistance in return for major tax breaks. Now that probably won't be possible but Umbrella's labs are all still in near-perfect condition and they're keeping their promise to assist the soldiers.

"Rage," calls my father, "Do you want to watch one of our tests?"

"What are you testing?" I ask.

"It's our final test of our new virus. If this goes well we will be able to manufacture it and begin administering it to selected soldiers."

"It sounds interesting," I reply, "I'll come and watch."

My dad nods and leads me through the complex web of passages that make up the lab. I haven't yet managed to learn my way around, save for a few essential routes I use daily. As we walk I glance through the observation windows set in certain walls. I didn't know what my dad actually did and know that I do it's kind of unsettling. He's the project co-ordinator for mutation viruses. Umbrella is a huge corporation that has many products the most dangerous of which are their biotechnology products; viruses that do a variety of tasks from healing and immunisation to deadly weapon-quality diseases. I can see some of the effects of those viruses through the windows. My dad assures me the viruses are secure but I can't help but be nervous. It doesn't help that as he is telling me I'm safe I am watching an animal slowly be liquefied by a virus that is only a pane of glass away from me.

"All the glass in this building is at least 20cm thick," my father assures me.

I don't know why they would possible need glass that thick. What is that strong in this lab?

"Through here," instructs my dad, holding a door labelled restricted pen for me.

I walk in and see my mother is already inside. She's watching a host of computer readouts while a group of technician monitor others.

"This is our main project," my dad tells me proudly, "The NG-virus."

"What does it stand for?" I ask.

"Next Generation. Our previous viruses were limited to only one effect. This one was designed specifically for military application. When injected into a soldier it will increase their strength, stamina, sensation and everything else tenfold. Mutation is an unfortunate side-effect but an acceptable one."

"Mutation?"

"Yes. Their entire body changes structure. Internally they remain almost identical but their skeleton's strength and their muscle mass increase dramatically. Occasionally they will also develop other limbs or eyes but those cases are rare. In fact after mutation they can be even more effective."

"Because they have more limbs?"

This is a thing I never expected to hear and I can't keep up with it. My dad's talking about people changing and getting stronger it's all very overwhelming.

"Not their body. That interferes with their actions and movements. As they mutate their body sends stronger signals along the nerves. Those signals are basically electrical charges. In our bodies they are extremely small but in the mutated bodies they allow the mutant to power small motors or computers. That means we can attach a prosthetic gun to their arm and never need to charge it. The body will provide the necessary energy."

I just nod. I can't follow all that. I get the just of it, I think, but I don't understand all his explanations.

"Let me show you how it works," he offers, "Commence the test!"

I walk up to the observation panel in the room and look down into a large testing area. The whole room is made out of metal. A door slides open and a creature walks out. It looks scarcely human. It looks over two metres tall! Its arms and legs are thick and its skin is a dark colour and looks like rubber.

"The skin we can't help. It's flame-resistant though," comments my dad.

"All the readings are normal," reports my mom.

The mutant looks around the room and, after not seeing anything, seems to almost go to sleep on its feet.

"Release the dogs."

A technician pushes a button and two more doors in the mutant's room open. Two dogs step out of them. The first dog has brown and black fur and is twice the size of a normal dog. Its body is lumpy, jutting out at every huge muscle. On its paws its claws have grown thicker and longer and look like they would make a deadly weapon. The other dog is normal size but has obviously been treated with the virus I'd seen earlier. Its flesh had been eaten away in places and as it moved it left a film of mucus and blood.

"The small one has the NG-Virus and Flesh-eating virus," my father informs me, "With the two viruses together the infected creature decays but still lives. I want to see whether it has combat potential."

I feel nauseas looking at the creatures in there. Is he going to make them fight? I don't like the sound of that. I try control the sick feeling in my stomach and see what will most likely soon be a part of our side's arsenal.

The dogs snarl at the large mutant who seems to be more alert even though he's barely shifted position.

"His adrenalin levels are rising rapidly along with his rate of respiration," my mom reads from the computer screen, "His muscle tone is increasing and his pupils have dilated. Heart rate is up and his digestion is down. Almost all non-essential organs have practically shut down."

The smaller dog suddenly sprints forward and leaps at the mutant's face. In a burst of speed that I never expected from his size he lashes out. There is a heavy thud, accompanied by a yelp, as the dog is sent flying backwards from the blow. The small dog strikes the wall on the opposite side of the room. As it slides down it leaves a dirty red trail on the wall. Amazingly it climbs to its feet as if nothing happened.

The bigger dog now charges in. As the mutant swing a fist at the large hound it grabs his arm in its jaws and bites down. There is a splash of blood that drips to the floor but the mutant doesn't make any sign that it's felt anything. It kicks up, its foot landing in the centre of the dog's underbelly. The canine is ripped from the mutants arm and falls to the ground a short distance away. The mutant turns its attention back to the smaller dog and rushes it. The dog doesn't react in time and is soon being pummelled by a rain of fierce punches. The weak skin of the dog tears away easily to reveal the dark red muscle underneath. The constant hits are now splattering blood. The dog snaps at the mutant even under such severe punishment but is unable to get a good hold or escape. Moments later its neck is crushed under one of the mutant's fists and it lies still.

The bigger dog has circled behind the mutant while t was distracted and chooses this moment to launch its attack. Unfortunately for it the mutant senses it and swings his torn arm at it. Before it hits two bones suddenly force their way out of the mutant's palm. They cut through the dog's chest and sever the shoulders and head from the rest of the body. The large chunk of meat flies toward us and crashes into the observation window at the centre of a myriad of spidery cracks. I jump back as the view becomes red.

"The readings are back at normal level," my mom states, "No lingering effect. The body prepares itself immediately and terminates the effects immediately once they are unneeded."

"That's excellent. I'll inform the military and see what action they would like to take," smiles my dad.

Everyone files out of the room leaving me there alone. I can't believe what I just saw even though I know it was true. It scares me. It scares me that my parents created that and that that thing will soon be a part of the military shortly. My heart is still beating. I turn away from the cracked window and leave the room, not even bothering if I get lost.

I make it back to my room but I'm actually more alone now than ever. I left Nana and my only friends to fin my parents but I can scarcely believe these are my parents. They've changed. I never thought that they were the kind of people that would make a creature like they did. I don't like it but there's nothing I can do. I'm still lingering in the past, before the war. No one politely asked if this was the future I wanted but now it's mine, along with all the horrors that entails.


	3. Chapter 3

**Operation Nemesis**

By: Gardie

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil, Sony, Capcom or any of those other wonderful billion dollar companies and franchises which I have drawn ideas from.

AN: Last part. If you want me to work on a sequel (I'll try do better) just tell me.

Omegadestroyer7: This has no connection to any games or movies other than Umbrella is a big corporation and that there are going to be zombies. In other words no one knows about some of Umbrella's shadier deals. Think of it as if none of the stuff that has happened in Resident Evil has actually happened. Lastly it doesn't say much for me but only the first two chapters talking about the war and all were done before I decided to make this about RE. I just had had enough inspiration to make the beginning but I didn't have any storyline yet so I decided to make it a RE story. Odd how it then seems added on. I wonder if you would have said that if I'd never mentioned it wasn't originally an RE idea.

**Chapter 3**

My watch is beeping and it wakes me from my sleep. I switch the alarm off and get dressed. Today is an important one; we're going to be transporting Umbrella's bio-weapons to the military base to be used as they see fit. Hopefully nothing will go wrong. If Phoenix figures out that Umbrella is assisting the military it could become a target. Actually I'm surprised Umbrella hasn't been attacked but I guess since they aren't part of any government they aren't a real threat. I open my door and go to find my parents and have breakfast.

"Good morning, Rage," my dad greets me.

"Morning," I answer.

My dad's half-way through his breakfast, just a little toast and a fruit juice, and reading a sheet of paper. I sit down at the same table as him and one of Umbrella's kitchen staff brings me breakfast. I begin to eat wondering what my dad is reading. When he finishes he folds the piece of paper up and puts it in one of his coat's pockets.

"What was that?" I ask seeing as he doesn't look like he'll tell me of his own accord.

"Oh, nothing, just a message from the military. It's not important though," he answers, "They don't know what they are talking about."

"They don't?" I ask, "I am still part of the military after all.

He waves his hand dismissively, "Don't worry about it. Just keep our viruses safe."

I take another bite of toast and am about to ask more when he stands up.

"I'm afraid I must leave," he explains, "I need to check everything is prepared for transportation."

I nod as he walks away. I still am curious what was in the note but I guess I'll never find out. Hopefully it wasn't important.

I check my gun and exhale deeply. I'm seated in the passenger seat of the jeep that's going to be transporting the viruses. My father's in the back with my mother and the viruses. There are more soldiers around that are accompanying us but in an emergency the jeep will be able escape the danger alone. Strapped to the roof of the jeep is a metal box my father placed there at the last minute. I don't know what's inside but he was adamant that it came with. Nothing the driver could say would change his mind. Everything looks in place so I tell the driver to go. The engine growls as it starts up and the jeep begins to move, accompanied by our guards.

We have been travelling for a few minutes and luckily everything seems quiet today. The scenes we are passing through are extremely depressing though, shattered glass shop-fronts, empty, rusted cars and here and there dark bloodstains. I hear a shout from one of the guards and turn to see what he's saying.

BANG! BANG!

He's got his gun out and is shooting at something.

BANG! BANG!

BANG!

There is a return shot and the guard falls down. Blood falls down onto grey concrete and spreads out behind the guard. He's not dead though I can hear him moaning from pain.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

There is more gunfire now coming from all around us.

"Go!" I shout to the driver, "Get us out of here!"

He floors the accelerator and we leap forward. I see a man aiming a large machine gun at the car.

"Get down!" I yell out in warning as I duck under the dash. The next instant is consumed in the roar of the machine gun and sound of metal being torn apart. That's not a small weapon. It's on a special tripod and can't be carried and shot at the same time. I hold my automatic rifle at the ready, waiting for the barrage to cease so that I can retaliate. I hope my parents are okay. The driver is definitely not. He's been chewed up by the bullets and my cloths are now soaked red because of it. The jeep has stopped shaking from the shots. I jump up aim where I remember seeing the shooter and let rip with a short burst. I watch, satisfied, as the man goes down, but there are still many more.

I open the back door of the jeep, glad that this jeep was fully enclosed and thankful that my parents are unhurt.

"You okay?" I ask even though they look fine.

My mother nods fearfully ducking at the next loud burst of gunfire.

"I've got a plan," my father assures me, pushing me out of the way as he clambers out of the vehicle.

"Stay inside," I order my mother.

I close the door and see my father, oblivious to the danger, fiddling with the box on the roof of the jeep. There is the tell-tale beeping of an electronic lock then the box opens. My father ducks and a mutated dog leaps out. It's been infected with the decay virus, I assume it's one of the test subjects, but hasn't progressed as far as the one in the battle I witnessed. This one leaves no trail and although large patches of skin have been eaten away there are sections where fur remains. I don't trust the dog one bit.

"Is this safe?" I asked, my gun is pointed at the dog.

"Trust me," my father says.

He pulls out a whistle and blows three quick notes. The dog's single ear pricks up and then it lurches off after a Phoenix soldier. The unfortunate man sees the zombie dog rushing at him and opens fire. The zombie dog takes now notice of the bullets or bits of tissue that are flying into and off of it; it's only focused on its prey. The dog tackles the soldier onto his back and proceeds to maul him. The dogs vicious snarling accompanied by the dying man's shrieks draw the attention of everyone involved in the skirmish. Everyone looks on in horror as the man's stomach torn straight out. Blood showers everywhere while the dog claws at the writhing body underneath it. Plunging its head inside the soldier's body cavity its snarls are muffled and as the man stops screaming and instead begins to ooze blood from his mouth a silence descends. The dog raises its head, dripping crimson life-blood and growling wetly. In a flash it's after a second victim. Its movement breaks the quiet and the air is filled once again with screaming and gunfire as the battle resumes.

I take down two enemies before needing to reload my weapon. I press the eject switch and the magazine. It clatters to the ground as I snatch a second, fully-loaded magazine from my belt and slide it into my gun. There is a click that signifies that everything is in place. I glance around to find my next target. The ground is torn apart by enemy fire right near my feet. I dive to the side and press up against the hard body of the jeep. I'm out of that soldier's line of sight for the moments. Glancing around, I can see that the battle's almost over. We were badly outnumbered but my dad's dog easily made up for our lack of numbers. I can see the dog now. It won't last much longer. It's staggering along on three legs. Its left foreleg is lying nearby in the dust, severed by a burst of lead. Half of the dog's skull has also been blown away and there are numerous pits in its muscles. I feel a pang of sympathy for it. Even if it is just a zombie now it is in a terrible state. It growls weakly at another enemy soldier. He spins around in fear but when he sees the state the object of fear is in he smirks.

BANG! BANG!

Two shotgun blasts finish the dog off. Its body finally gives in and in a shower of red liquid it practically explodes. I raise my own weapon and fire on the person who just killed the dog. I don't feel anything as he crumples, landing on his knees before falling face-down. I can't feel anything now. It would scare me if I could still feel fear but there is only a hollowness in me at the moment.

"Retreat!" shouts one Phoenix soldier as he turns and runs.

The rest follow suite. I jump up and begin firing at the fleeing enemies. Bad idea. One of them made it to the mounted machine that had been set up. I am right in his sights. I see, out of the corner of my eye, the bright muzzle flashes as each shot is fired but I don't hear a thing. There is a bright red spurt of blood and I see my hand spinning through the air in front of me. The impact of each bullet knocks the air out of my lungs and I am lifted off my feet by the force of the shots. As I float through the air things seem strangely peaceful. My vision flashes red, then red again and red again. I land on my back in a cloud of dust. I can no longer move but I feel …wet and all around me I can see a widening pool of blood. I close my eyes. Is this how it is going to end; in a strange city, killed by a retreating enemy force at the age of sixteen? I can't go on and I give in to the blackness.

My eyes burn. I…I'm still alive? How? I was fatally wounded. There was no way I could have survived.

"Rage."

I can hear a voice. It's saying my name.

"Rage, can you hear me?"

How do I answer? My mind feels foggy. My memories are blurred. Should know that voice. It belongs to…my neighbour? No, he's dead. Maybe I'm dead and it is him. I don't know.

"Rage, please answer."

That's a different voice. Softer. I know it too. Why can't I think? What's wrong with me?

"We'll have to increase the amount of stimulants he's receiving," decides the first voice.

"I'll increase it, now. 3mg per kg of body mass?" asks the second voice.

"That sounds good. His metabolism must have increased more than we predicted."

Oh. I can feel something happening. My mind feels clearer now. I can see now. Previously all I saw was a bright light but now I'm starting to make out two figures. It's…mom and dad.

"How're you feeling, Rage," my mother asks.

"I'm alive?" I ask.

"We managed to keep you alive," my mother answers, "But you would never have survived in your previous state."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"We had to repair your body immediately if you were to have even the slightest chance of a recovery," my father answers, "In order to achieve that we had to inject you with the NG-Virus. It worked and your body was rapidly returned to its original state and you were able to survive."

"Did I…mutate?" I ask.

I'm not sure I want to know. I'm glad I survived, obviously, but I don't want to be a freak mutation.

"You did," my mother answers, "But that doesn't matter. As long as you are alive."

I force myself to sit up, then I examine my new body. My skin has been replaced by a thick black substance. I'm far bigger than before. Around my shoulders, just where my arm joins my torso, there is a ring of small nubs. As I wonder what they are the ones I am concentrating on come to life. They elongate much to my shock. As I calm myself I realise I can move them as I wish. I make them return as they were.

"Just a second," my mom says as she pulls out a number of tubes and wires that were connected to me. With them out I am able to stand up. I am definitely taller. I look around and recognise the lab I'm in but I never saw it this clearly. My eyesight is many times stronger than before.

"I hope you like your new body," my dad says, "I know it must come as quite a shock but I'm sure it won't be too much of a problem. We hope you'll remain with us and continue to serve as our bodyguard."

I nod dumbly, opening and closing my hands, sensing a far greater strength in them than I've ever known before.

Now I've lost my previous life completely. I'm reunited with my parents and I've been exposed to the NG-Virus. I've mutated and I'm now one of the strongest creatures on the planet. But the war is still brewing. I don't know how things will turn out after now but I can only hope that eventually everything will return to what it once was. However that is unlikely and I'll just have to make the most of what I've got.

**The End**


End file.
